


Spring Day

by MalevolentSpirit



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:25:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentSpirit/pseuds/MalevolentSpirit
Summary: Thank you all for reading! Leave some comments about what you want to see next!





	1. The Accident

The streets were busy with cars driving from point A to point B. Humming engines roared to life at red lights, and brakes screamed to a halt when the light turned from green to yellow. People walked along the sidewalks talking on phones, texting or checking social medias, and just enjoying a beautiful day. The air was crisp enough to cause the hairs on people’s arms to stand, as well as chill enough to where a long sleeve would be needed, but not a full coat or jacket. The sun was shining between the spaces of apartment buildings and trees, illuminating the streets in a beautiful evening glow. The sky was a mixture of yellow, purple, and a slightly off-pink color. Puddles formed at the base of curves, the rainstorm from earlier finally having cleared around an hour prior.  
Class had just ended at William and Mary University, and Lucas was standing at the bus station waiting for the 8:15pm fare. He waited for what felt like hours, tapping his feet and replying to missed messages and tweets until finally it was 8:30. He decided to walk the long 8 miles to his apartment. Lucas didn’t mind walking, it was just the fact that he didn’t have any friends to walk with that made the idea seem lonely and less-preferable.  
Stepping off of the curb and into the busy street, Lucas barely had time to throw his hands up before he felt the taxi run into his side, sending him up over the hood, across the windshield, and onto the paved road in what felt like slow motion. He felt every cut, bust, and crack in his body as it happened. He screamed in pain, clutching the most immediate injury; his head. It had smacked onto the pavement first, busting open the side and causing a pool of blood to form around him. Sirens wailed in the distance, and people ran to try and provide immediate aid. One man tried CPR, while others screamed and called for policemen or doctors.  
By the time anyone came, Lucas was unconscious.

As he sits remembering this in his hospital bed, Lucas hears a small knock at his door.  
“Come in. It’s open…” he said softly, barely able to form such sentence.  
“Mr. Tae? I have your medicine and a note from the doctor. He says you’ll need to start remedial therapy for your speech and thinking,” the nurse said. Lucas’ nurse was a kind woman. She herself had lost her kids in car accidents, which she says is what made her get a degree in medicine. She spent almost six years at NYU learning all she could.  
“Okay.” Lucas shifted on the white, thin bed sheets into a sitting up position. The accident had given him severe brain damage; he lost his ability to speak fluently, and to think in a proper manner. Most of his thoughts came out as half complete scenarios that the nurses had to think about extra to understand.  
“I know this has been hard, but on the bright side, you’ll have a friend there. He’s been through something similar, and is offering to provide translation between you and the therapist. He’s a nice boy, and I’m sure you two will get along greatly.”  
Lucas nodded in response, grabbing the small remote on his bedside table and turning the tv channel to a kid’s cartoon.

The therapist’s office seemed… other-wordly. The walls held paintings, bright colors of paint, and a few stickers from the kids who’d come and gone as time passed. Lucas’ therapist’s office was no different. There was a reclining seat in the center of the room which Lucas was to lay on, a smaller couch-like seat sat next to it - most likely where the doctor would sit; a small table sat near the far right wall, coffee cups and water bottles lined up for the patients. Pictures of the past patients were hung up on the wall in a small but cute design intended to make the room seem more laid-back.  
Lucas folded his hands in his lap as he sat in the reclining seat, patiently waiting on the doctor. He didn’t have to wait long before the door opened, but it wasn’t the doctor who walked through. Instead, it was a young, dark featured male. Lucas’ translator most likely.  
“Hello there, my name is Jay. And you are?” He asked.  
“Lucas,” he replied, extending out his arm for a handshake, to which Jay accepted.  
“So, give me a quick rundown of what happened if you don’t mind. If it’s too much, I understand. It might be helpful for the doctor though,” Jay said, sitting down next to Lucas on the reclining seat.

When the doctor walked in, Lucas and Jay had just finished the rundown of the accident. He walked over and sat down in the chair beside the recliner.  
“Hello, you two. How are you today?” he asked.  
Lucas nodded his head, and Jay replied, “We’re good. How are you, Dr?”  
“Exhausted, but otherwise ready for work. Mind telling me everything about what happened? I’ll need a full report so Lucas can get the best help he can,” the doctor said.  
After the rundown, the doctor decided to begin with simple sentences. What does Lucas know, somewhat understand, and what is he completely confused by? It didn’t take long to diagnose him with traumatic memory loss. The brain purposely forgets things in order to protect the patient from traumatic memories.  
“How long does it last? Will he have it forever?” Jay asked, speaking for Lucas so he wouldn’t have to force himself to try and talk.  
“If he doesn’t get treatment soon? He’ll be left like this for the rest of his life. The brain doesn’t recover easily, or at all now that you think of it,” the doctor said, placing a paper down in front of Lucas so he could write instead of having Jay talk for him.  
“Lucas, how did you feel when you woke up for the first time in the hospital bed?” the doctor asked, returning to his seat and patiently waiting for Lucas to begin writing.  
Lucas cleared his throat to try and speak, but his vocal cords seemed strangled by fear; trauma. Instead, he began writing how he felt:  
‘I felt terror like I’d never felt before. I felt the world, my life, slip away from its original path. I felt the train derail from the tracks. When I opened my mouth to speak, I couldn’t, and it confused me so much that I began to sob.’  
The doctor read carefully, squinting as if trying to interpret the feeling for himself. He sighed and set the paper down. “I see… do you still feel like this, Lucas?”   
Lucas nodded yes.  
“Do you think it could ever be… remedied?”  
Lucas shook his head. He’d come to accept the fact he’d be mostly mute for the rest of his life. It didn’t bother him as much as it annoys him. When people tried to ask him a bunch of questions and he couldn’t answer them? He got so frustrated and sometimes tears would fall from his hopeless eyes.  
“Well, the most I can do for now is assign Jay to be your translator until the hospitals get back to me about medicines and such. Are you okay with that?” the doctor asked, standing and beginning to log down their first meeting, and all of Lucas’ responses.  
“I… yes,” Lucas mutters, voice horse and shaky. He can barely get the words out.  
Jay walked over to the doctor and whispered something, taking a piece of paper that the doctor handed him and walking back over to Lucas.  
“You ready to go?” Jay asked.  
Lucas nodded in response and followed Jay out the door


	2. The Doctor's Office

It’s been two months. Two months since Jay was assigned as Lucas’ translator, and their friendship had gone nowhere. Lucas refused Jay’s help, even going as far as to shove him away when he tried to give him medicine, saying he’d only take it if a doctor gave it to him.  
“Lucas please, it’s supposed to help you-”  
Lucas sat in silence, glaring at Jay with eyes that showed anger, pain, and fear. What else could he do? Yell out for Jay to shut up and listen? Not easy when your vocal cords don’t work the way they should.  
“Look, if you won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to the doctor. I’m taking you tomorrow for a check up. You won’t get a shot, but he’s going to give you this medicine whether you want it or not,” Jay said.  
Lucas grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled angrily, his handwriting a mix of adult cursive and print, much like a teacher’s. ‘Like hell you are. I’ll bolt myself to the floor before I go back there. They hurt me last time with unnecessary shots and forcing me to talk when I couldn’t.’  
“That’s just their way of trying to get you to push yourself! And you needed the shots to make sure you didn’t get even more sick,” Jay snapped.  
Lucas had been sick with a cold for a couple of weeks now. They tried every allergy medicine they knew, and eventually Jay had taken Lucas to the doctor’s office, where they gave him injections.  
“You know what? Forget this.” Jay knew he wasn’t supposed to leave Lucas unattended, but he stormed out of the room anyways. The door slammed shut behind him.  
Lucas stared at the door, numb to everything but shock. Jay was really willing to risk something bad happening to him, and him not being able to cry for help? Call 9-1-1 and get assistance? Whatever. That’s fine.

Jay felt the same way. Was he really willing to risk it? Risk coming back to Lucas laying on the ground injured, covered in blood, or maybe bruises and cuts? Or even dead? Without any means to alert him to the issue?  
No. He wasn’t.  
It wasn’t even two hours before Jay returned home, immediately checking all of the rooms in the house for Lucas. He checked the bedroom first, where they’d been before the fight that only strained their friendship more.  
“Lucas? Are you in here?”  
There he was, sitting in the exact same position as before, staring numbly at the wall before him. He figured if he didn’t move, nothing would happen to him. No injuries. No death.  
“Oh thank God, you’re okay. I’m so sorry for running out… I didn’t know what else to do. I was furious, but I’m not anymore. You don’t like the shots, I know, but they’re the best thing for you. They help you from turning into a complete mindless zombie,” Jay said, embracing Lucas in a hug that seemed far too concerned to be purely friendly.  
Lucas sighed to himself, returning the embrace. Fine, he’d do it. Only for Jay.

The doctor’s office was cold, the stench of hand sanitizer and rubber gloves lingering around the building. There was a calm and creepy aura to it all. Calm in the sense that it wa safe, and creepy in the sense that people who came in here were about to have a needle possible shoved into them, or given bad results on a health test that could change their life forever.  
“Good morning, Lucas. My name is Dr. Kennedy, and I’ll be checking up on you to make sure everything is in order. Jay, do you mind stepping out for a moment? I need to check his vitals and brain activity.”  
“Why do I need to step out?”  
Lucas grabbed a piece of paper quickly before the doctor could step in. ‘Just do what the guy says. I don’t want you in here anyways.’  
Jay frowned slightly as he read the note. Well, if that’s how he feels…  
“I’ll be outside. Let me know when you’re done,” he said.  
The doctor smiled briefly and closed the door, turning back to Lucas. He grabbed a stethoscope and placed it over Lucas’ heart, checking to make sure it sounded normal. When he was sure that it was, the doctor moved and grabbed a small needle.  
‘What’s that for? I’m not supposed to get shots today…’ Lucas wrote.  
The doctor shook his head and chuckled. “I know. This isn’t a medicine shot, it’s a sleep shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Leave some comments about what you want to see next!


End file.
